‘Ah. We had a little … architectural incident.’
You’ll have a fucking incident if you don’t let me in this house—
His collarbone creaked under Callum’s fingers.
‘A nasty little beastie decided to break through my priceless windows last night,’ Verin said.
Nicole?
Gods above, had Nicole come here on her search? This place was full of antiquities and paintings. What if she’d needed to break in and got caught, and Verin—
Red replaced the gold pulsing in Kyan’s vision, his clothes suddenly too tight.
Bone crunched in Kyan’s shoulder.
Verin’s brow arched slightly.
‘Why don’t we discuss it over some tea?’ Callum asked. ‘After all, we have something you’re going to want to see.’
‘I don’t have many tea parties any more. Not after the Wake killed most of my “co-conspirators” as they liked to call them.’ The Vampire’s teeth flashed in a smile that was anything but pleasant. ‘Give me one good reason why I’d let you in.’
‘You owe me, remember,’ Kyan near growled.
It was true – Kyan had let Verin go once when he’d found him collecting blood from the site of a kill.
Callum stepped closer, dragging Kyan back slightly so he could face the Vampire. ‘Because we might have exactly what you need to get the revenge you’ve wanted since the Wake killed your partner.’
The words singed the air with a dark promise.
Verin’s gaze slid to Callum, his eyes so cold Kyan was amazed the Vampire didn’t try to kill them there and then. Verin deliberated forwhat felt like a small eternity, and then the centuries-old Vampire opened the door to his palatial home wider.
‘You have ten minutes. You step out of line …’ He smiled, canines sharp. ‘You’re in my kingdom. I can’t be held responsible for any more … incidents.’
Kyan would make sure they took as long as they needed, but he nodded anyway and shouldered into the house’s art-clad hall. The echo of Nicole’s pleased little sigh every time she approached a painting breathed through his mind.
For a moment the memory was so strong, so visceral, it stopped him in his tracks.
Gods, it was getting worse.
He felt like an unruly bloodhound and evidently seemed like one from the silent warning in Callum’s eyes to get his shit together.
‘This way,’ Verin said, gliding ahead.
‘Fancy house,’ Callum commented.
The Vampire sniffed.
‘I thought it was built by William Cecil,’ his friend continued as they dipped through rooms and wound around Elizabethan architecture.
Kyan tried to focus on the conversation and not the rushing in his ears.
‘Will had the place built under my direction,’ Verin explained. ‘We couldn’t have the queen’s right-hand man knowing a powerful Vampire was keeping us all secret. Especially at the height of the Witch hunts and in the midst of Elizabeth’s fascination with the supernatural. It also meant I was able to keep watch on the human political situations, even if I didn’t “involve myself” – per the Wake’s request, of course.’ He said the words like a phrase that had been repeated to him a thousand times and that he found just as tedious as the first.
‘Of course,’ Callum purred.
Kyan knew for a fact the Vampire hadn’t followed that order to the letter, and that the Wake hadn’t either.
Verin led them through the house to an exquisitely panelled library room where great tables had been set up in one long spread. Brass and copper vial-holders and measuring devices were set between sparkling glass for his bloodwork.
